Colonials Beat English at Their Own Game

The FIFA World Cup. Simply put, it is the most significant sporting event in the world (yes, even more so than the Olympics) and every four years most of the people on the planet get into a fanatical hype about it, that is all except the great United States of America. All of our “home grown” sports tend to take the main focus of the population despite the nationalistic fervor that seems to be so strong in the country. As a fan of association football, soccer’s proper name, the prospect of being in England for the 2010 FIFA World Cup was a very intriguing one. And I am happy to say, the atmosphere did not disappoint.

Coming into this London experience I felt slightly on guard about the English people. This may have been unwarranted but I was consistently reminded of the pickpockets roaming the streets, the upright British pretensions and their general distaste for anything American; blame the last one on 1776. What was a pleasant surprise for me, and the rest of my group, was how misguided most of these assumptions turned out to be. While it is still possible that I could be pick pocketed at some point during the trip, I have found most Britons to not only be welcoming, but, to an extent, effusively polite. While I expected most people to look at us with disdain when we so obviously flaunted our “Americanness”, whether it be our outlandish nature in public or the confused and lost look we get when we can’t find our way to the next tube station, it has been a pleasant surprise to see that most do not hesitate to help us in whatever task we are seeking to accomplish. Save the motorists and bikers, I would say the general mood of the English people I have met and talked to had been one of jovial respect, however I feared that this might not be the case on match day.

Despite our misgivings about whether or not it would be safe to watch the match in a predominantly English pub, we abided by the “strength in numbers” motto and staked our claim in a large corner section of a pub a few blocks away from the house. While only a few of us were there hours before the match to watch the early games, by the time the 7:30 kickoff rolled around, all 28 residents of Madison House had arrived to support the Stars and Stripes, save for a few female Benedict Arnold’s in Rooney jerseys, and the atmosphere was truly incredible. Maybe it was because I was more than a few pints deep at that point, but singing The Star Spangled Banner at the top of my lungs with my fellow American’s in the heart of enemy territory was a truly moving and unique experience.

While the match had its fair share of surprises (recap here for all of you who don’t know what happened, and should be ashamed) but what was the most surprising part of the match for me was how most of the England supporters seemed to focus their attention on enjoying the match rather than hating the large group of Americans. While this may be attributed to the 20 girls we had in tow, I subscribe to the notion that the English are much more critical of their fellow Englishmen’s character than they need be and that most of the gents at the pub are really decent fellows who love football and respect those who are proud to support their own nation’s colors. In the months before the USA-England match, I had run through many scenarios in my head about how it would play itself out, both on the pitch and in the pub, but never did I imagine that things would fall into place as well as the did last Saturday.